


Witching Hour on Level 1313

by coruscantguard (nadiavandyne), nadiavandyne



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bickering, Clone Trooper-Typical Identity Issues, Gen, attempted theft, in which rafa pulls a jason todd and fox is much too tired to deal with any of this, listen there's no way rafa wasn't in some shit before their parents died, timeline wise this is before rafa and trace were orphaned btw, you don't just WIN A BUILDING GAMBLING if you don't have a little bit of experience okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24409483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadiavandyne/pseuds/coruscantguard, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadiavandyne/pseuds/nadiavandyne
Summary: "Ihateyou," the kid hisses, and her nails press into his arm, hard enough that Fox can actually feel them through his blacks. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you."
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & Rafa Martez
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95





	Witching Hour on Level 1313

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a translations in the end notes!

"I _hate_ you," the kid hisses, and her nails press into his arm, hard enough that Fox can actually feel them through his blacks. " _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you._ "

Fox does not say _join the team, kid,_ but it's a close catch. The exhaustion is wearing down the edges of his carefully cultivated self-control, blurring the line between Commander Fox and whoever the kriff he is when that cover is pulled away. That line, that divide, shouldn't exist, and it wouldn't exist if he could just drop the part of him that isn't the Commander, but... he hasn't managed to do that yet.

Anyway, the line is certainly not one he can afford to have blur, but sleep deprivation doesn't care about should have, would have, could have. Sleep deprivation only cares for two things, and those things are:

1\. Causing general misery to both the victim and the people around them.

2\. Causing yawning in the victim, that then spreads to the people around them, and makes it impossible to hide said sleep deprivation from the medics.

In short, sleep deprivation is a kriffing shabuir.

"Is there a specific reason for your hatred, besides the obvious?" Fox asks once the kid finishes her string of _I hate yous_ , then clarifies. "The obvious being that Commander Fox caught you attempting to steal a Guard speeder's engine, and didn't let you finish stealing it."

"If you have to clarify what the obvious is, it's not that obvious," the kid snarks back, then pauses. "Wait, did you just refer to yourself in third person?"

The kid briefly ceases her attempts to rip his arm out of its socket, and/or use her nails to make him more vulnerable to infections by tearing his arm to shreds, after she asks that question. Thankfully, the kid is 5'6 at most, maybe 120 pounds, and has short nails, so she hadn't been making much progress with either technique regardless. Still, it's nice of her to give his arm a break. "Kriff, that's sad as hell."

"Language," Fox snaps, like he's talking to a cadet instead of a natborn. Like he's on Kamino, and Cody just brought back a runt of a brother to their bunk, a runt of a brother who'd told him to go kriff himself the moment he asked what charity case they were supporting now. Ah, that first year with Rex on their squad had really been a time.

Then Fox actually processes what he just said, who he just said it to, and freezes.

The kid freezes with him, even as she's already running her mouth again. "Kriff you," she spits, and it's lacking none of her usual venom, but... her offense seems to be directed at him treating her like a kid, not the fact that a _clone_ dared to talk back to her. Which is good, if unexpected. Natborns, even the kids who you catch trying to steal government property, can cause a serious problem if they complain about the Guard to the right people. _Especially_ if what they say has any measure of truth to it.

Kark, he's tired.

"Listen, kid," he says, "I don't want to write you up. I'm not planning on writing you up. The Guard has more pressing concerns than a twelve—"

"Sixteen!"

"—Sixteen year-old kid trying and failing to steal a speeder's engine. That said, a sixteen year-old kid should not be on Level 1313 at 3am on a Centaxday morning. They definitely shouldn't be unarmed and alone when there. So, you can give me your name and address, and I can safely get you home, or you can keep resisting, and I can get you in touch with the Coruscant Security Force, who are the ones that are actually paid to deal with this osik."

"Osik?"

"Shit. It's a Mandalorian word. Although the technical translation to Basic is dung. Are we going to take a nice little trip to the CSF building, or...?"

A minute of silence, then—

"...332 Gar'lida Way. Apartment 4528. It's right off of Von Gesal Street, in the Uscru District." The kid lifts her right hand from it's death grip on his arm to rub at her eyes, averting her gaze downward. Underneath all the rage and fury, she looks positively miserable. "And my name is Rafa Martez. Can I have my bag back now?"

"Can I trust you not to run off with it, Lady Martez?"

"...Yes."

"You sure about that?"

" _Ugh_ ," the kid‐ Rafa grumbles, and she finally fully lets go of his arm, proceeding to cross her own and scoff. "Whatever. I hope you trip on a rock and my calc textbook breaks your back."

"Why the calc textbook specifically?"

"Oh, that was just the first subject that came to mind. Believe me, I'd be totally fine if it was my History of the Galactic Republic textbook that took you down instead. Kark, I'd be impressed if my economics textbook managed it, cause that thing is way too skinny to be considered a textbook."

"...Thank you for sharing, Lady Martez."

"I can go on."

"I'm sure you can."

"Hey! What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

**Author's Note:**

> \- Mando'a Translations (Courtesy of mandoa.org!)  
> Shabuir: extreme insult - *jerk*, but much stronger  
> Osik: dung (impolite)
> 
> \- As of 2020-08-14, Rafa's age has been changed from fifteen to sixteen! I redid my math, and felt like her being sixteen in 22BBY made more sense than her being fifteen. Also, as of a few days ago, the title of this fic was changed from _Witching Hour in Galactic City_ to _Witching Hour on Level 1313_ , because the author was a dum-dum when naming this fic and forgot that Galactic City only refers to the upper levels. 
> 
> \- Come talk to me on Tumblr [@coruscantguard!](https://coruscantguard.tumblr.com/)


End file.
